Dazed
by LILY220
Summary: Ginny Weasley. A sophisticated and established young witch, torn by the consequences of a single thoughtless act. Molded by her ever present strength to live each day , how will she ever learn to embrace the man that left her life in shattered pieces?


Okay. Long day. Not that she was worrying. No, she wasn't the worry type. She was just…exhausted. Facing parenthood alone can do that to a person. She was one of those modern individuals that was strictly work oriented. All about her job and rarely had time for an actual life. Her family wasn't exactly thrilled about "making time" to see them or even the most recent excuse she had used about twelve hours earlier, " I will fit you into the schedule". Yes, she was married to her job. Why not , that was all that she consisted of for 90 hour weeks. Might as well put her heart and soul into it. Though she did have to admit, her older brother, Charlie definitely had a brilliant thought. Sabbatical. Yep, answer to all of her problems. Her tremendously large family was quite considerate of her feelings, but never knew when they crossed that line. They tried to protect her, to keep her safe. Ginny hated protection. She was a strong independent woman and fought in the war on the front lines. She could no doubt hold her own. God, they all thought that they knew every aspect of who she is; or was at least. Thought that they knew what she "needed". Ha. Times have changed. Actually, thirteen months ago to be exact. Though no one really knew the "real" Ginny. Nope. Maybe that one person, but of course he never counted anymore. Okay. Worrying just a little bit.

She shook her head as that annoying "ding" reminded her that her floor was the next stop. She felt a bit disgusting. Her hair was beginning to string up, which was becoming quite easy since each lock reached well below her elbows. Her face was itching to be rid of the makeup that was currently occupying it. That brown fitted, empire waisted, pleated skirt that she had picked out for a day of utter hell at the office, was now accentuating the tiredness that she now felt, instead of the professionalism she felt this morning. Back to the hair. A trim would be nice yet sophistication was key. Oh, who was she kidding. She most likely would not have the time. Mentally reminding herself that she should really try to fit it in, she stepped out of the elevator and into her full floor flat.

At that moment it hit her, full in her attractive face. The smell of Apple pie. Yum. Just the thing to come home to. Okay. Having a witch as a mom definitely had its perks. Just then, a small, well-kept woman walked out of the kitchen with stack of freshly pressed baby blankets.

"Oh dear, you startled me," she said as she reached for her youngest child. "How was your day, darling?"

"Tiring." she replied with a exasperated sigh. She was already thinking about that steamy bath she was planning on having. Bubbles, candles, and it sounded quite heavenly.

"How was yours mum?" she asked with a slight yawn and leaning across the cool marble countertop awaiting her answer.

"Just wonderful. My little sweetheart had a good day today. She's getting stronger you know just took her a little longer than most, but that's completely normal for premies. She may only be four months but she' s a fighter, Ginny, just like her mummy."

"Where is she mum?" putting a smile on her face as she asked. Almost illuminating her tiring features.

"In the other room. Do be quiet dear. She fell asleep about an hour ago. Been a wee bit fussy that one. I would think my little angel's stomach is bothering her. Kiss her bye for me darling. I'm headed home. See you in the morning dear." and with that she blew her goodnight kisses and stepped into the life size fireplace that mere seconds later erupted into bright green flames.

She walked to the nursery, pausing at the door only to take off her heels. Tip toeing through the door, Ginny quietly made her way towards the round, wooden crib located directly in the center of the rather large room. She peered over the railing to see the rising and falling chest of a beautiful baby girl nestled softly on her belly. She helped create her. This beautiful little baby. She was just so perfect and breakable, she relied on Ginny. She gently placed a few kisses upon her beautiful forehead and she wandered if 9 pounds was normal for four months. Shrugging she silently gazed down at her daughter.

Every time she looked her, Ginny saw so much if him. Those gorgeous green eyes of hers as well as the almost visible darkness of hair just beginning to form atop her perfectly miniature head. Yes, Peyton was bound to be just like her father, and that, she had to admit, was what she found to love most about her daughter.

Later that night, Ginny gently slid off her knee length silk robe and stepped into her claw footed tub that was presently occupied by ruby red rose petals scattered along the crystal surface of the water. She sat there, soaking for what seemed like decades. Hot soothing baths were definitely on her short list of weaknesses. Washing, relaxing, reading short columns in the days _Daily Prophet _, Ginny began to remember what it felt like to have absolutely nothing on her mind. She felt pleased, at ease with herself; momentarily a different Ginny Weasley, one who did not spend all hours of the day working at the Ministry and yet one that wasn't a mother. She was free in her mind for even that brief moment of peacefulness. Until her eyes lingered on the surface of the photo. The only photo she allowed herself to keep up of the two of them together. She reached over and drew up the frame that was lying on the sill to her right, brought it back to her so she could look at the content more closely. As she did she wiped the small tear that fell down her sweet face.

She had made a fairly strong promise with herself; take away the memories of ever being happy with him. Though when it came time to face this one and get rid of it, she couldn't do it. This picture was different. It still gave her the very same butterflies, almost like the real thing. Almost. The picture: a swing set, black and white setting, and gorgeous smiles dancing across their faces as the swing went back and forth on the surface, as if it was alive.

She still thought about him every day, more often here lately. Out of anxiousness she assumed. Snapping out of her trance, Ginny replaced the photo and gracefully pulled herself from the now cooling water. She made her way to her bedroom quietly, knowing that Peyton was sleeping in her room just down the hall. She dressed and made her way to her bed. Setting her wand and reading glasses on the small table that resided between both the four poster bed and a nice Victorian style armchair. The very same armchair that he himself sat in every evening to read up on the happenings of the Wizarding world. She hadn't even thought about sitting there. Way too many memories. Though every morning she fluffs up the pillow because its always crumpled, as though he was sitting there just hours before. She cuddled against her cold pillow and drifted off into the same haunting dream. She dreamt of Harry.


End file.
